


it don’t matter because it’s enough // to be young and in love

by unforgvnsam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Sam Winchester, Clumsy Sam Winchester, M/M, Stanford Era, Trans Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 08:35:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14712737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unforgvnsam/pseuds/unforgvnsam
Summary: sam winchester is a bisexual, clumsy dumbass who will run into things when distracted by cute guys and his roommate brady takes it upon himself to clean up his scratches





	it don’t matter because it’s enough // to be young and in love

**Author's Note:**

> this legit wouldn't have gotten finished w/o judah (@sahwen on tumblr) so thank u for keeping me from my Death by Fluff  
> im ftmsam on tumblr and im too tired to actually link shit rIP

Sam fumbles with the keys to the apartment, touching his forehead hesitantly with his other hand, and winces, regretting it instantly. He manages to get the door open, only to realize that the kitchen light is on and the toilet is flushing. He should be rushing to his room so that Brady doesn’t see him like this, but he feels a little bit frozen in anxious panic and he only starts moving once the sink is shut off and the door is opening.

“Hey, Sam.” Brady smiles, and Sam lets out a soft sigh of relief. He’s standing by the living room and it’s pretty dim with just the light from the kitchen, so maybe Brady won’t even notice and he’ll just be able to slip into his room.

“H-hey, Brady. Thought you would still be in class?” Sam’s voice cracks a little and he can’t believe he’s acting this awkward. He  _knows_  how to lie and he really need to chill the fuck out before he ends up having to tell Brady why his head is banged up.

“Mm, prof let out a little earlier today. Just got back. Ordered pizza, so if you’re hungry, that’ll be here in like ten minutes or so— Sam, are you  _bleeding_?” Brady’s face instantly goes from casual if not tired to concern as he walks closer to Sam and turns on the hall light, only to flip it off when Sam winces at the sudden brightness. “What the fuck happened?”

Sam laughs nervously, his hand going back to his temple. As far as he can tell, there’s only a small trickle of blood running down the side of his face, so it’s really not that bad. He’s had a lot worse. “It’s fine.  _I’m_  fine. Doesn’t matter how it happened!” His voice actually legitimately almost squeaks, like he’s fucking going through puberty, or hell, just starting HRT again. This is not cool. This fucking sucks and Sam just really wants to hide in his room.

Brady’s eyes are narrowed in confusion but he shakes his head. “Come on. Let me at least clean you up.” Sam internally groans, internally wants to  _die_ , but he follows Brady into the kitchen. “Counter. Sit.”

Sam sighs and hops up on the counter, wincing at the jolt because his head is seriously  _hurting_  now that the embarrassment is starting to fade but leave the pain behind. Brady washes his hands before grabbing a sterile wipe from the first aid box in one of the kitchen cabinets. He rips it open and brushes Sam’s bangs away from his bleeding and bruised temple.

He gingerly brushes the small wound with the wipe, and when Sam doesn’t flinch he presses a little harder to get the blood cleaned away. Sam still doesn’t react, even though it seriously stings, and Brady looks even more worried for some reason. “You didn’t feel that?”

“I—”

“This is bad. You should’ve  _felt_  that, Sam.” Brady’s other fingers press against Sam’s chin to tilt his face slightly so he can see the cut better. “You just…  _zero_  reaction. What the fuck?”

Sam tries to hide a smile. “I’m  _fine_ , Ty. It burns a little, but I’ve… I’ve had worse. I’m used to this shit.”

“Oh,  _okay_. Yeah. That’s totally normal too.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Sam laughs and gently shoves Brady’s shoulder.

“Make me.” Brady grins back at him with a teasing glint in his eyes.

Sam rolls his eyes even though he definitely  _wants_  to shut him up in a very specific way, but that’s probably, unfortunately, not what what he meant. They tease each other all the time. Maybe it’s even flirting, but Sam doesn’t want to get his hopes up. They both stay silent for a moment, just looking at each other, before Brady touches the bruise with the antiseptic again and Sam actually winces this time, the pain taking him by surprise.

“Hmm, there’s the normal reaction.”

“Fuck off. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Mm, okay. Sure.” Brady finishes cleaning up the thin line of blood, down to Sam’s chin, which his other hand is still gently holding between his thumb and second finger. He moves away to grab an ice pack from the freezer and Sam feels almost disappointed at the loss of warmth from Brady’s hands on his face and his body pretty unnecessarily pressed against his legs. “So you really won’t tell me what happened?”

“Uhm… Do you really  _want_  to know?” It’s not the gay thing. Brady knows Sam’s bi and trans. At the very least, Sam definitely hasn’t tried to hide it. It’s the  _level_  of gayness that’s embarrassing.

Brady grins at him, looking entertained and interested. “I’m not gonna  _make_  you tell me, but you’re making me damn curious. What, were you fighting a monster or something?”

“ _No_. No. That… I don’t—”  _I don’t do that anymore._  Brady looks confused because he was obviously  _joking_ , and Sam sighs. He might as well tell the truth now. “I… There was a cute guy and I was… I was  _distracted_  by him, okay? So I… I ran into a fucking lamppost.” Sam’s voice trails off and Brady looks like he’s trying not to laugh as he gently presses the ice pack to Sam’s forehead, which only minorly helps the heat of his blush.

“You…” He finally lets out a laugh, and the tone almost sounds more like Sam’s story is  _endearing_  than mockable, but Sam can’t be sure. “You literally ran into something because of a cute guy?” He takes Sam’s hand and moves it to the ice so that he can hold it himself, but he still keeps his hand on top of Sam’s.

“ _Yes_. Yeah…” Sam swallows, needless physical contact uncomfortably  _there_. “Come on. Straight people must do that too sometimes. Think someone is so gorgeous that they accidentally practically die.”

Brady is staring at him in shock, somewhere between amusement and complete fucking horror. “You think  _I’m_  straight people?”

“I-I’m not— I don’t—” Sam can’t even stutter out what he’s thinking, because he feels awkward and helpless and because he was  _right_. Brady  _isn’t_  straight people, and maybe his dumb ass wasn’t just imagining things out of hopelessness.

“I was actually gonna say that that’s  _valid_  because I literally almost tripped down some stairs beginning of the year because I was thinking about this adorable, great guy and wasn’t paying attention.” Brady is looking at him with a soft smile, and Sam desperately wants to look away out of nervousness, but he can’t. “He’s… He’s actually even more adorable when he blushes.”

If Sam’s face was warm before, it’s fucking  _burning_  now, because even though Brady can’t be talking about him right now, he’s staring at him so intently and speaking so directly, it almost feels like he is.

He can _’_ t be talking about him.

The doorbell rings, but neither of them move for a moment until it rings again, longer this time. Brady stumbles away, and his cheeks are pink now too. “Sorry, I should, uh, get that.”

“Ty, wait.” Sam hesitantly grasps Brady’s wrist right before he moves too far away. Brady doesn’t try to pull away. Steps close actually, his eyes catching the light and sparkling a little with curiosity and anticipation.

“Yeah?” he whispers and before he can say anything else Sam tugs him against him and presses his lips to Brady’s. He pulls back, terrified, a short second later but Brady is smiling, maybe even grinning.

“Can’t believe the adorable, great guy I like just kissed me.” Brady’s voice is quieter than his earlier whisper and Sam shakes his head and laughs.

“Can’t believe I almost killed you beginning of the year.”

Brady kisses him again, longer this time except that it gets cut off by the doorbell ringing for a solid five seconds.

“Hey, is anyone  _home_?”

“Shit. I really need to get that now.” Sam reluctantly lets go of his hands and sits down on the couch to wait for him, pulling on a thread in his sweater anxiously. “Still want pizza? Maybe we can catch something on TV.” Brady drops down next to him, relievingly close.

Sam nods, tentatively brushing his hand against Brady’s, who tangles their fingers together. They start watching somewhere in the middle of a cheesy horror movie rerun and they’re almost done with the pizza when Sam’s still aching head starts dropping towards Brady’s shoulder.

“Here. Just lay down on the couch and put your head on my lap.” Sam is sleepy enough to do as he says without feeling completely embarrassed. His eyes close as soon as he stretches out as well as he can on the small couch and Brady’s fingers run through his hair gently. “Just hope you won’t have a stellar headache tomorrow too.”

“Don’t jinx it, Ty,” Sam mumbles, tilting his head up and squinting at him.

“Okay, sorry.” Brady huffs out a quiet laugh and leans in for a soft kiss. “Feel better, alright?”

Sam nods slightly before his eyes slip closed again.

**Author's Note:**

> validate me u cowards


End file.
